


subversive kind of love

by anissa_qiaolian



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Dom Melinda May, F/M, Fake interrogation, Framework AU, Light BDSM, Sexual Roleplay, Sub Phil Coulson, Teacher!Phil, but both of them are working for the resistance, hydra!may, married philinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22812802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anissa_qiaolian/pseuds/anissa_qiaolian
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	subversive kind of love

Phil looked up from his newspaper as he heard Melinda’s bike pull into the garage. He smiled at her as she walked through the kitchen, setting her key in the bowl with tired movements.

Phil immediately got up to comfort her, rubbing her shoulders in slow movements, noticing the way her body sagged under his touch. He kissed the exposed skin of her neck and pulled her body against his.

“Rough day?”

She scoffed. “Isn’t it always?” She asked, weary and soft and careful, so careful, even in the home they shared as a married couple. Nothing was safe. Not even in their own home could they talk about their true work, where a high school history teacher who seemed to utterly bend at the will of Hydra and his wife, a high level interrogator within the ranks of said organization, could discuss their true business together.

It was only by some baser instinct that they realized that the other person secretly worked for the Resistance. Maybe it was what led them to each other in the first place.

Maybe that’s just the way love works.

Either way, Melinda had found another three bugs hidden in their bedroom this week and Phil had spotted a drone circling above their home, so, as always, discussing the Resistance was off limits.

But as two dutiful citizens, they were free to rave about Hydra and what a wonderful job the Superior had done rounding up a hidden batch of Inhumans. Color drained from Phil’s face as he took in Melinda’s demeanor, and he decided from there on out that there would be no more questions, no more “how was your day, honey”, because he already knew the answer. He knew Melinda better than anyone, and what she needed right now was comfort, not shallow small talk to appease their everlasting surveyors.

Slowly, Phil eased his hands down Melinda’s back, the smooth leather of her uniform running coarse between his fingers. He trailed them up and down her sleeves, fingers subconsciously drawing an invisible X over her Hydra logo.

He didn’t go over it with the X over and over like he wanted to, felt a craving deep within his bones to, because such a thing would be  _ subversive  _ and the history teacher and his wife were clearly  _ nothing of the sort _ .

Instead he thought about  _ her  _ needs, what could he do to alleviate  _ her  _ pain, this beautiful creature who had so much weight on her shoulders that they melded to his touch. This woman who cried in his arms every night because of the pain she had to cause just so her Superiors didn’t doubt that she  _ was _ for The Cause.

Her lips part and he kneads the flesh of her lower back, pausing for a moment to press his hands to her backside, both loving and hating the way the leather grips her ass. He begins to bring his hands up to her chest, to unzip the bothersome vest and take her breasts in his hands when she stops him.

“No,” she says, gently. “Leave it on. And meet me in the cellar in 10.”

Melinda walks away without a further word to the cellar herself, to give him time to get ready while she prepares herself.

Ten minutes later he finds Melinda standing by the door of the interrogation room. She stands at attention with hands clasped in front of her waist, but Phil can still detect the nervous twitch underneath her features. In a voice that betrays nothing she tells him, “We don’t have to do this right now if you don’t want to, Phil.”

And as always he replies, a chipper smile on his face, “ Lead the way, Agent May.”

She acquiesces with a small smile and steps inside. “Safe word?”

“Haig.”

A look of fondness and love is the last dash of positive emotion Phil sees on her face before her features wipe themselves clean and she becomes Agent May.

May crosses over to the other side of the table. She presses her hands into the stainless steel and gazes soullessly into his eyes. Already Phil begins to feel a drop of sweat bead on his forehead, a formative bulge forming in his pants on the spot.

“You have information you’ve been hiding from Hydra,” she sneers. She leans forward to narrow her eyes at him and her hair follows, standing at attention on either side of her face. Phil wants to reach out and feel the silky tendrils in his fingers, but he knows he’s not allowed.

So he waits.

And he doesn’t answer her question.

The slap comes harder than he expects, sprouting tears in his eyes and a hand comes up automatically to rub the flush skin where it made contact.

“Color?”

Phil feels his nipples harden underneath his soft button down shirt.

“Green.”

She grabs his face and juts his chin up, forcing him to look at her. She searches him with her eyes, taking in the shallow breaths and almost black irises of his pupils, the way his Adam’s Apple jumps and bobs as she brings herself closer, close enough almost to kiss, to touch. Her fingers wrap loosely around his neck and she squeezes, experimentally, before backing off and turning her back on him.

She faces the south wall, where a one-way mirror sits on the other side. There’s obviously no one on the other side of it now but it adds a sense of danger to what they’re doing here, a sense of authenticy. Her officials cleared Melinda’s request for an accurate in-home interrogation room because they figured she would use it accordingly, as a practice room for real interrogations.

It became their roleplay room pretty quickly.

She stands silent for so long that Phil is about to break character and call out to her when she swivels around, eyes gleaming with determination and something unidentifiable. His heart quickens intensely at the sight of it.

“You do realize you’re nothing, right?” May’s eyes gleam cruelly, looking somehow dead and alive at the same time. Phil swallows. 

“I could kill you right now and it wouldn’t change a thing. And we’ll still find your secrets anyway. Hydra always finds out.”

She angles herself directly in front of him, leather and the small swell of her breasts the only thing Phil’s eyes can see. She leans against him, casually straddling him, trapping him between her short but incredibly strong legs.

A slow smile creeps upon her lips and she licks them, causing Phil to repeat the same as he stares at them intently.

“Do you know I have other ways of breaking you, Phillip? If that’s the way you wanna dance we can do it. I have things I can do to you that would have the Doctor quaking in his boots.”

Even the mention of the Doctor doesn’t stop the thrill that runs through Phil’s shoulders at May’s words. He tries to muster up a response, some witty comeback or denial to show he wants to fight back, but he can’t and he doesn’t.

He is utterly at the will of Agent Melinda May right now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her boot is the next thing Phil sees, pressing into his shirt, the tip just inches away from his mouth. He goes to swipe the polished tip with his tongue, she growls and yanks his chin upward. He’s panting now, like a dog, and she growls like a crouching tiger.

“Insubordinate as you are and you think you deserve to lick my boots? These heels have stepped on better worms, sweetheart. You can lick something else though.”

Phil didn’t notice she had already unzipped her jeans until his head was shoved face first into her cunt. He groans as he feels her juices slide down his chin, taking obscene pleasure in the way that she’s marked him with it. He obediently laps May’s pussy, tongue expertly circling her clit as he sucks her inner folds dry. Her grip on either side of his head strengthens, strong fingers pulling the thin hairs of his head closer, sitting in stony silence as her ‘interrogation victim' massages her cunt with a practiced tongue. Phil takes May’s clit into his mouth and sucks it; her eyelids flutter and the grip on his hair falters just a second before it comes back, stronger than ever.

“This is certainly more useful than you staring at me like an idiot. Maybe I’ll keep you for myself.” She murmurs, caressing his face almost softly before palming his hard cock in his jeans.

“Don’t stop”, she commands, and as Phil obeys, she efficiently rids him of his belt buckle and unzips his jeans. His cock juts angrily from his boxers and she slides those down too, revealing his length, red and ready, before her uncaring eyes. Before he married Melinda, he never would have believed that angry blowjobs existed. He knows better now.

With his tongue sliding deeper into her ever dripping folds, Phil feels a jolt as May rubs at his cock at a vigorous pace. Before he can blink that pressure is replaced with her mouth, deepthroating his entire length in quick, intense thrusts. Phil has to ground himself to his chair to stop himself from grinding into it, wanting nothing more than to fuck her face while she fucks his. 

But he knows his place. And he never ever questions the System. May stands and abruptly shoves Phil’s head away, guiding herself to perch instead on one of the armrests where his arms are chained down.

“Use your fingers,” she commands. His cock drips from precome and her saliva as his chin dribbles with her come, most of it dripping down onto his shirt, not that he minds. 

He has very little mobility in his arms and can only twitch his fingers an inch or so before the restraints lock him in place. She shuffles so that her cunt is lined to the tip of Phil’s fingers. He flexes them, ghosting two over her swollen clit while the other two stroke her outer labia. Her eyes close and her sharp jaw clicks in place. He knows how to read that face; it means he’s doing a good job. He decides to upgrade that ‘good’ to ‘mindblowing’. He digs the two fingers deeper into May while pinching her clit. She bucks her hips into him and widens her legs, spreading them fully while bracing her back on the cold metal table.

He adds another finger. Flicks her pulsing clit at a steady pace. The thrusts increase. Finally he slips in the last one. She bucks herself on his fingers, uniform straight as an arrow while her lower half fucks herself on his hand. Release coats his hand and again he inches to be free so he can lick his fingers again and again, savoring Melinda’s taste until he takes his dying breath.

After another moment of fluttering her eyes open, settling on Phil with emotionless disdain. Suddenly he remembers how hard his cock is, open and leaking while his pants and underwear sit at his knees. Ass bare on the seat.

“Get yourself off,” May says, pants already zipped up. Uniform in tip top shape. Not a strand of black hair out of place. She digs into her bra pulls out a remote, unlocking Phil’s restraints in the press of a button. She swivels to leave the room but pauses before trying the handle. 

“And Phil?” Her head turns to the side, hiding half her face from the camera in the corner. One side of her lip quirks up. “Hail Hydra.”

Phil returns the smirk, eyes gleaming with the knowledge that neither of them mean it, a private joke between a husband and wife who secretly worked for the other side. 

“Hail Hydra.”

It isn’t hard for him to get himself off from here. All he has to do is  _ think  _ about her, her hands roughing him up, slapping his skin. Her leather boot in his face. Her dripping wet pussy, the way he simply _ knew  _ that she was watching him through the one way glass, the feel of her hands, the sound of her lovely voice... fuck, FUCK...and there it is. 

Phil leans in his seat, hand rested lazily over his cock. Melinda returns and tosses a cheeky wink at him before starting to clean the interrogation room. After washing his hands in the adjoining sink he joins her, the two of them working in contented silence as they scrub the floors together. He whistles a tune. Melinda smiles at him, pure and warm, before shaking her head affectionately and scrubbing a particularly stubborn drop of come off the floor.

When it’s all over he traces patterns onto her shoulders, with no particular shape in mind. 

“Did it help, Mel?” He kissed the bare skin of her shoulder. She nodded and cuddled herself in him further. “It did. Thank you, honey.”

“Thank  _ you _ . Now to go to sleep.” When Melinda looked another he added, softly, “I’ll be right here if you need me.” And it was true for them both. 

No matter where the other person was, or what they were going through, the other would be right there to help them through it. It’s Phil and Melinda’s thing. And it’s  _ exactly  _ what love is.


End file.
